


Hymn For The Missing

by emryjacksn6



Series: Cas and Dean [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is dead, Destiel - Freeform, Grieving Dean, M/M, Mourning!Dean, Sam's the emotional support, set based on song lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 12:59:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11418486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emryjacksn6/pseuds/emryjacksn6
Summary: He regrets not apologizing to Cas when he had the chance for making Cas be second best, for making him feel lesser sometimes and for being a dick. For not taking care of Cas like Cas takes care of him. Regrets everytime Dean hit him or punched him or knocked him to the ground, even when he was a demon. Regrets letting Cas slip away or leaving his sight.And above all, he regrets falling for the angel.***"Decide to be fine til the end of the week. Make yourself smile because you're alive and that's your job. And do it again next week." Dean wonders if that information worked for any of them because it sure as hell isn't working for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TTPPXtsd4A) song that Avery stumbled upon. The Nightcore version is a lot sadder which is why we chose that one.
> 
> Also, thank you so much Avery (link below) for reading and editing this! It means a lot. For those of you who are also really into Jily fics at the moment go check out her new fic. So far it's amazing, and I can't wait to read the rest.
> 
> The [song (Hymn For The Missing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TTPPXtsd4A)
> 
> The [original (with lyrics)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etQ5Jzv45Qw)
> 
>  
> 
> [Avery (Editor)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/themaraudersandevans/pseuds/themaraudersandevans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean hasn't slept. Every time he closes his eyes he sees that knife coming out of Cas' chest and the bright light of his grace leaving him. He sees Cas' mouth fly open and he hears the little whimper of pain that Cas choked out. He sees Cas falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut, and he sees the blood from his wound spill onto the dust. He feels Sam's arms go around him and pull him back, and he remembers he didn't put up that much of a struggle.
> 
> But worst of all, he sees Cas.

 

> _I tried to walk together  
>  _ _But the night was growing dark  
>  _ _Thought you were beside me  
>  _ _But I reached and you were gone_

Sam had to pull Dean away from Cas' body. Dean didn't put up a fuss - not even when Sam pried his brother's hand off of Cas' trenchcoat - he just let Sam direct him into the Impala's passenger seat. The door was left open, the cold bite of night nipping at Dean's ears and turning the tip of his nose cold.

Cas would bicker with Dean that he needed to wear more layers and not challenge the weather to give him a cold. If he were here, that is.

Sam put Cas in the back seats, trying to ignore the fact that Cas' dead body is as pliant as Dean's very much alive one. Dean handed him the keys without looking at him and turned to rest his forehead against the window. The drive to the bunker was a long one, and both brothers lifted Cas down the stairs together. 

They set him in his room, lying on his bed as if he were asleep, and Sam flicked on the lamp sat on the bedside table. It illuminated Cas' copy of  _A Tale of Two Cities_ \- a book he had read almost fifty times but still captivated him nonetheless. 

Dean picked up the book, pulled up a chair to Cas' bedside and flicked the book open to the first page. Cas had suggested Dean read it, and Dean regrets not giving it a shot when Cas was around.

Sam left him be and retired to the library, flipping open book after book, but none of them gave him the slightest clue of how to get an angel back to life. Praying would be useless, Heaven won't want anything to do with Cas after all the rebellion Cas has done for the Winchesters, and it doesn't matter how long they've known God,  _Chuck_ , the damage was done.

Dean was five pages in when he found a sentence that made him chuckle, and he looked at Cas to share it with him, laying a hand out to Cas' shoulder before he realized what he was doing and his smile dropped. 

Cas' skin is cold even through his clothing, and his face is ghastly pale. His eyes are closed like he's sleeping, and now,  _now,_ Dean can relate to all those people who cried when he had to show them photos from the morgue of the deceased.

 _"He's not sleeping, is he?"_ He remembers one teenage boy, no older than seventeen, cry when Sam held up a photo of his boyfriend, closed eyed and dead on a cold metal table. Dean was too focused on sorting out the case to notice the boy's heartbreak, but now he knows. 

Now he can relate.

Because Cas isn't sleeping this time, and seeing the real image is worse than seeing a photograph.

* * *

 

 

> _Sometimes I hear you calling_  
>  _From some lost and distant shore_  
>  _I hear you crying softly for the way it was before_

Dean hasn't slept. Every time he closes his eyes he sees that knife coming out of Cas' chest and the bright light of his grace leaving him. He sees Cas' mouth fly open and he hears the little whimper of pain that Cas choked out. He sees Cas falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut, and he sees the blood from his wound spill onto the dust. He feels Sam's arms go around him and pull him back, and he remembers he didn't put up that much of a struggle.

But worst of all, he sees  _Cas._

He sees Cas laughing at  _Roadrunner_ and then hears him explain how it correlates to God and humanity. He sees Cas shoving a burger into his mouth, he sees Cas undoing his tie in the middle of a motel room whilst researching a difficult case. He sees Cas, bearded and standing behind him in the mirror. He sees Cas interrogating that damn cat and then putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. He sees Cas healing him again and again and _again_ and he remembers barely thanking him for it. He sees Cas dead in the chair with marks carved in his chest and he sees Cas opening his eyes and smiling at Dean. He sees Cas bloody and spilling black crap from his mouth and looking at Dean pleadingly because he thought he was going to die.

He hears the  _"Hello, Dean_ _"_ every time. He hears his deep voice in his ear, telling him his shoelace is untied, that he  _"doesn't serve man, and I definitely don't serve you_ _"_ and he hears the clatter of the angel blade when Cas fights against his programming. He hears Cas tell him that Kelly's child is innocent, and he hears Cas yelling at Dean that the car's locked. He hears Cas laugh by his side in the middle of the grocery store at some bad joke that Dean told him, and then he hears Cas laugh at a hundred other ones because he's Cas and always laughs at Dean's jokes, no matter how bad. He hears Cas say  _"I love you, I love all of you"_ and he hears Cas give him a sarcastic comment about his 'lumberjack' look.

He feels Cas holding his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Dean in a crushing hug when he found out Dean was alive. He feels Cas' hand in his when he pulled him up, and he feels Cas' fingers skim across his arm longer than necessary. He feels Cas' thigh pressed against his own in the small diner booth, and he feels Cas grip his elbow to pull him away from danger. He feels Cas press a gun or a knife or an angel blade into his hand before a hunt and he feels Cas' hand slap his in an enthusiastic high five when they manage to prank Sam. He feels Cas' eyes on him when Dean's not looking and he regrets not looking then.

He regrets not telling Cas he loves him back because  _of course, he does_. He regrets not getting that drink with Cas when they defeated Amara, and he regrets above all letting go of Cas' jacket. He regrets letting Sam pull him back, regrets not putting up a harder fight. Regrets not wrapping Cas in a hug and telling him how he feels. Regrets kicking Cas out when he fell from Heaven the first time, and he regrets, above all, putting other things and people above Cas time and time again. 

He regrets not apologizing to Cas when he had the chance for making Cas be second best, for making him feel lesser sometimes and for being a dick. For not taking care of Cas like Cas takes care of him. Regrets everytime Dean hit him or punched him or knocked him to the ground, even when he was a demon. Regrets letting Cas slip away or leaving his sight.

And above all, he regrets falling for the angel. Because he knows from experience that feelings lead to pain. He knows because Dad died and his mother died and then left when she came back to life. He knows because he had to wipe Ben's memories and Lisa's memories. He knows because he's gained feelings multiple times and then had to leave town once the case was done. He knows because everytime Sam closes his eyes in pain Dean's worried he'll die. He knows because he told Ben  _"just 'cause you love someone doesn't mean you should stick around and screw up their life"_ and he stuck around with Cas and made him fall from Heaven and lose his grace and became possessed and die dozens of times.

He knows because he had to kill Benny to get Bobby and Sam back. He knows because he saw Bobby die in front of him. He knows because Ellen and Jo blew themselves up for the Winchesters even after John was to blame for Jo's father getting killed. He knows because Ash died and Kevin died and Charlie died and everyone he loves eventually ends up that way.

So Dean hasn't slept in two weeks and five days. He's left his room three times in total, and barely eats the food Sam brings him. He's finished  _A Tale of Two Cities_ and he knows why Cas couldn't put it down now. 

And Dean's cried. Even though he hates crying (and that might be because his father used to tell him  _"babies cry, Dean, and you ain't no baby no more"_ ) but he's cried so much his eyes are permanently red and puffy. His pillow's crinkled from where he's punched it and screwed it up and thrown it at the wall. His room's trashed from where he broke everything in his sight. The bathroom mirror is smashed on the bathroom floor and Dean's mobile is only intact because it's the only way to hear Cas' voice one more time from voicemails he's left Dean or that message on his answer machine that makes Dean cry all over again.

Dean wishes he can get another chance, just to make things right again. Just to get another opportunity to sit next to Cas and listen to his soft, rhythmic breathing as he reads, or listen to him speaking about his day or about some species that he wished had won the fight of power centuries ago -  _"of course, no offence to humanity, but they had a way about them that..."_

Dean dials Cas' number again because pressing speed-dial two is too simple and Cas' number is the only one he knows by heart (he can't even remember his own). Cas' voice opens up Dean's tear ducts again, and Sam pretends not to hear Dean crying from the other side of the door.

* * *

 

 

> _Where are you now_  
>  _Are you lost_  
>  _Will I find you again_  
>  _Are you alone_  
>  _Are you afraid_  
>  _Are you searching for me_

The hunt did jack-shit to help Dean. After a month Sam found a case and he argued with Dean that he shouldn't come. That it'll only make things worse but Dean just glared at him and snatched the keys in his fist. 

It was a simple salt-and-burn case, done and dusted within a couple hours, but Sam thought it would be best to stay away from the bunker for a while. He checked them into a motel room for four nights, and disappeared on the second day to go catch up with a Stanford pal who's in town - and, miraculously, doesn't keep up with the news channels and so didn't hear the stories about Sam dying twice, being a convicted serial killer and blowing up a police station.

Dean lasted all of an hour in the motel room by himself, scrolling through a couple random websites that were debating the appropriate amount of time to cook rice for to get the best taste. He shut the laptop off and grabbed the car keys, remembering seeing a sign for Columbus a mile or two out of town. Columbus was the case that involved the two boyfriends, one of the only salt-and-burn cases Dean vividly remembers.

He wrote Sam a quick text and then stuffed his duffel into the back seat. His GPS on his phone is on and so he knows Sam will be checking it to make sure he really does get into Columbus and isn't on his way to the bunker again.

He drove for three hours before pulling up into a gas station. The girl behind the cash register couldn't be older than twenty-four and gave him a flirty smile. She wrote her number on his receipt when he wasn't looking and he shoved it in the dashboard compartment when he buckled in. He won't call the number, and he spat some gum into the paper two miles later before chucking it out the window.

The graveyard sat a mile out of the city, sheltered by trees. A small play park lies a little far off across the road and there's a young couple with a toddler who looks like he just learned how to walk. Dean parked the car and wandered around the graveyard until he stumbled across the grave he's looking for.

 _Thomas Hunder_  
April 4th, 1999- September 10th, 2016  
His absence is a silent grief, his life a beautiful memory

He remembers this boy. He was found in his bed, throat ripped out and his ring finger missing - some symbolic demon who lost her husband centuries ago and continues to terrorize couples. This boy was a straight A student, headed to Princeton alongside his sister and his boyfriend, and he had just gained the approval of his strictly religious parents to date the guy. 

Cas had all but had a stroke when he found out people weren't as accepting of sexuality as God intended, and nearly passed out when people defended their homophobia by saying in the Bible it says "man shall not lie with man".

_"That's a mistranslation!" Cas had cried in the motel room, pulling at his hair and ignoring Sam's stifled giggles as he paced, "It's 'man shall not lie with BOY'! Boy, as in younger than the age of consent! The word for boy and man is the same in the original language!"_

The headstone's clean marble, with white engravings and wilting flowers at the bottom. A shadow appeared on the marble beside Dean's, and the boy that stepped next to him barely batted an eye at the man he believed to be involved with the FBI until he saw the demon with his own eyes.

"It doesn't get easier," He said, eyes looking forward at the grave and away from Dean, but he can hear the tremor in the kid's voice, "You just get used to the pain and stop thinking about it so much. But it never gets easier."

He's wearing a Princeton hoodie and has a suitcase at his feet. Dean suspects he just got back from a semester, and this is the first place he stopped at.

"It's not back, is it?" The boy, Alex if Dean remembers correctly, looks at Dean now, "The demon, I mean."

"No." Dean says sternly, "That bastard isn't getting out of hell anytime soon."

"If..." Alex cleared his throat, pushing his hair from his forehead as he tried to find his wording. Taking a look at him he doesn't look like the kind of guy to just stay involved with one person, let alone a guy. He has the womanizer look as if he has a new girl on his arm every week, but Dean's seen him cry over his deceased boyfriend and heard how they started dating when they were just thirteen years old before they could really even be one-hundred-per-cent sure.

But hey, if you know then you know.

"If Hell's real," Alex finally said, "Then Heaven's real too, right?"

Dean thinks of Ash's heaven, then his mother's and his own and he thinks of when he ran around Heaven looking for God only to be disappointed, "Yeah," Dean replied gently, "Yeah, Heaven's real alright. Not pearly white light and sparkling gold gates with a waiting list."

"What's it like?"

"However you want it. Heaven is personalized to you and you only, sometimes people can share a Heaven if they really love each other. Your Heaven can be your local pub or your house, or a park or anywhere you want."

Alex nodded, seemingly content with the idea of his deceased boyfriend relaxing in some figment of Heaven designed just for him. They stood in silence some more before Alex turned to Dean again.

"Hey, where are your partners? You know, the giant and the sex-hair guy."

Dean chuckled at the names, "Sam's meeting with an old friend, and Cas is-"

_Back at the bunker- no, dead._

The lump in his throat grew a couple inches as he stuttered, choking on his words. Alex managed to put two and two together, looking at the gravestone of his boyfriend and then at Dean.

"Hey," He patted Dean's arm, "If Heaven's as great as you make it sound, then Cas will be alright."

Alex turned and walked away with his suitcase, climbing into a car parked next to the Impala - he probably remembered it from the case and that's why he wasn't so bothered about Dean being there. Dean watched the car go before sliding into the Impala again.

Dean imagines Cas' heaven. It's probably some scene he saw in his past lives, where he can curl up with a book or a memory and be content all day. It might be the Bunker for all he knows. Dean hopes he isn't alone, or scared or wondering what happened to him. He hopes Cas isn't confused as to why Sam and Dean haven't come to get him yet, and he hopes that Cas is alright in his new home.

He remembered as he drove back to the motel a couple hours away, what he once told Alex and a thousand other grieving teenagers and parents;  _"decide to be fine til the end of the week. Make yourself smile because you're alive and that's your job. And do it again next week."_ Dean wonders if that information worked for any of them because it sure as hell isn't working for him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's silence for a moment, and the priest stands to grip Dean's shoulder, "And Cas, he was... what to you?"
> 
> Friend? No, more than that. Brother? No, much more than that. Not quite friends, not quite family and not quite a lover or a soul mate either. Well, Dean guesses Cas was his soul mate, like a friend soul mate at the beginning which was slowly developing into more. 
> 
> "An angel." Dean finally answered, "Cas was an angel."

 

 

> _Why did you go I had to stay  
>  _ _Now I'm reaching for you  
>  _ _Will you wait, will you wait  
>  _ _Will I see you again_

 

Dean can't think of a time that he wasn't hurting. If there was a time it'll probably have been when he was still young, when his mother was alive, just before and just after Sammy was born. Of course, even then he was hurting too. His father would disappear sometimes or his parents will yell and slam doors, and he'd hug his mother and tell him his father was sorry even if he knew his father wasn't. He thought that when Sam was born things would be okay again, but he knows that at some point he crawled into Sam's cot and put his hands over the baby's ears to block out the shouting.  

His mother used to tell him that angels were watching over him at that point. Dean never believed in angels, and God was just a myth to him. He used to tune out of church services and peel at the cracking polish on the church pews. His mother used to tell him to stop, to pay attention because this information could be useful but his dad would just chuckle and ruffle his hair, whispering to him behind Mary's back that it's alright and that he's bored too. The difference makes sense to Dean now; Mary believed because she grew up in Dean's position, fighting monsters and evil every night, whereas John was sheltered from it by his own father, who was involved in the Men of Letters. Dean thinks that John only stopped going to Church when Mary died was because he knew she was right, that they would need the protection from the Lord but he didn't want to admit that he should have paid better attention to his wife. They went again once, in 1990, when Dean was eleven and Sam was seven. The boys spent the entire time playing with their new Gameboy between them and John took them out before the service even ended. 

Now, Dean wishes he had paid attention, wishes he had listened to his mother and the preacher. Not because he needs help on a hunt or he's trying to rebuke his sins and all that shit, but because they talked about griefing at one stage, and Dean can't remember what they said, and he really needs that information right now. Of course, they never said how to grieve the death of an angel (a legitimate, living, breathing angel, capital 'A', harp and all - because Dean doesn't care what Cas says, he stood next to a harp once and Dean never let Cas forget that ironic placement). 

Dean drove three hours from the bunker in Lebanon to the old Church in Lawrence he would be dragged to every morning until he was four. There are plenty of good enough Churches in Lebanon, but Dean wants to go to that one specific Church and so he will. It was barely nine AM when Dean found himself sitting in the back pews and listening to the service begin. He paid attention this time but didn't sing the hymns - he did stand though and managed to crack a smile and a wink at the little girl next to him who kept staring. 

The priest is talking about the gates of Heaven that Dean  _knows_ don't exist, and two months ago he would have snorted at the way the priest is talking about loved ones waiting for you at the gate. Today, though, he's thinking about if it's true. He's seen Jimmy reunite with Amelia in her heaven, and he hopes that Jo and Ellen reunited with Ash in the Heaven Roadhouse, with Bobby joining them soon after.

Dean thinks it's a stretch, but as the congregation began to file out he wondered if Cas had his own version of Heaven, ( _are angels even given a Heaven?_ ) and if he did Dean hoped it was nice, just like he hoped he was at peace last week when he talked with Alex. The priest managed to sneak up on him when Dean was looking at the stain glass window of Jesus. Dean knows that when Cas claimed to be God he had changed one of these windows to himself, not in this church but somewhere. Dean wonders if they ever changed that window, or if an image of a messy-haired, accountant looking man is still stood in the place of Jesus.

"You, young man, seem troubled," The priest looked at him, eyebrow raised behind the circular glasses perched on the end of his nose. 

Dean averted his gaze back to the window, "I'm," He started before clearing his throat, "It's a complicated situation."

"Noah getting swallowed by the whale was a complicated situation," The priest turned and sat on the front pew, "Trying to depict the exact meaning of the Bible is a complicated situation, I can assure you, sir, that whatever you are going through there are people willing to try and understand."

Dean stayed silent. Maybe if he visited Missouri she could give him the good news he's hoping for and he won't even have to open his mouth. But Missouri isn't in front of him, this middle-aged preacher is and Dean knows that storming out of the house of the Lord is deeply frowned upon. He's trying to weigh up the pros and cons of opening his goddamn mouth and explaining, but Dean's been Dean for thirty-eight years now and he's been keeping everything bottled up and secret for thirty-four of those years.

"You're grieving, aren't you?" The priest watches as Dean clears his throat and nods, still looking at the stain-glass window, "How long?"

"Two and a half months."

"And this... this person-"

"Cas," It's the first time Dean's said his name out loud since he died, since he yelled his name out and watched him get killed, and it hurts his throat to form the two syllables, "His name was Cas."

There's silence for a moment, and the priest stands to grip Dean's shoulder, "And Cas, he was... what to you?"

 _Friend?_ No, more than that.  _Brother?_ No,  _much_ more than that. Not quite friends, not quite family and not quite a lover or a soul mate either. Well, Dean guesses Cas was his soul mate, like a friend soul mate at the beginning which was slowly developing into more. 

"An angel." Dean finally answered, "Cas was an angel."

Dean doesn't hear what the priest says because everything comes rushing in. Cas, his angel, long gone and there's nothing to bring him back this time. Cas, an angel of the Lord who believed so heavily in the Winchesters, that they could do anything even when Cas wasn't certain that anyone could. Cas, Dean's best friend who pushed him back from danger more times than he can count, who said his name like it was a prayer when Dean came back from a hunt unscratched. Cas, an angel who loved humanity so much it became his weakness. Cas, the angel who pulled Dean from the literal depths of Hell, who pieced him together bit by bit and the only thanks he got for it was a sarcastic one before Dean tried stabbing him. 

Cas, the angel who watched over Dean just like his mother said. Cas, the only person Dean cried in front of that wasn't family and the only one that Dean would never fight back against. 

The priest is still talking when Dean turns and walks out the Church, and he doesn't realize it's running until a clap of thunder rings out when the doors slam shut after him. There's no one around to see Dean raise his middle finger to the sky because God be damned, Dean thinks.

 _Chuck_ be damned, because Chuck's supposed to be God and God's supposed to love his creations, and  _Cas was his creation_. Chuck's supposed to help them with the shit they're in now just like the Winchester's helped him through his shit. And they've had nothing but radio silence for two and a half months.

Dean tried to reach out, tried praying to any angel who had their ears on in that service, and it's the first time that Cas hasn't answered when Dean really needs him. Dean breaks down in his car, hunched over the steering wheel and sobbing brokenly into his palms as he realizes that no matter where he drives, no matter how long it takes to get there, Cas won't be waiting for him. Cas won't fly himself into Dean's car and give him a heart attack when he's driving, and Dean won't ever get to see his toothy grin again. 

Cas isn't waiting for Dean this time, and Dean feels utterly alone for the first time in nine years.

* * *

 

>  
> 
> _You took it with you when you left_  
>  _These scars are just a trace_

Missouri obviously wasn't expecting Dean when she opened the door, but she could tell what he wanted when she looked at him. Dean's still drenched and puffy eyed when he follows her beckoning hand into her home, immediately welcomed by the warm gust of air from the heater. 

"Just remember, boy," Missouri pats his cheek, "People don't come here for the truth-"

"They come for good news," Dean interrupted, "I know, but I want the truth. I don't want any sappy crap that'll make me feel better, I want the truth. Even if it kills me."

Missouri reminds him twice that she can't bring people back from the dead, and that she can't see heaven, but after that she's ruthless. She hits Dean with a pillow and a magazine and yells at him to get his act together whilst offering biscuits and coffee at the same time. Dean takes every hit, spills coffee on her sofa and bites the inside of his cheek when she tells him solemnly that there's no way to bring Cas back from this round.

He's bleeding when he gets back in his car and guns it to the Highway. He sticks a cotton ball in his mouth whilst he drives and spits it out when the bleeding stops. He doesn't stop driving until he pulls up beside Cas' old truck outside the bunker, and he finally sees that he's cracked his hands from where he's gripped the steering wheel too tightly. It's still raining and Dean ducks into Cas' truck quickly, buckling himself into the passenger seat and angling to look at the driver's side. 

There's a picture tucked into the sun visor and Dean knows it's off Cas, Sam, Claire and himself. He had printed it out for Cas when Jody sent it to him. They had taken a trip down to visit Jody, Claire and Alex one day, and Jody insisted on a picture. Alex had ducked out last minute to answer a phone call, but Jody snapped a shot of the four of them anyway. Claire was on Sam's back but was leaning back to ruffle her father's hair. Dean had an arm slung around Cas' shoulders and was looking at Claire, both of them laughing at each other, whereas Cas is looking down, one hand gripping Claire's wrist and the other holding onto the front of Dean's jacket. You can't see it in the picture, but Cas was smiling and chuckling when it was taken.

Dean thinks back on his phone call with Claire from last week and how he stayed strong when Claire broke down. This kid had lost her father more times than a kid should have, and it was obvious she had reached breaking point. 

The truck smells like Cas and old books, and Dean lasts an hour of listening to Cas' favorite radio station before the engine dies out. He doesn't think of the pain in his hands as he closes the door after he slips out, and he's out of half of his clothes before he even reaches his room. Dean cleans his wounds with rubbing alcohol and stares at the cuts, scratches, and scars left from hunts in the past month. If Cas were here he would heal them away like he's been doing for nine years, and Dean tries not to think about how his scarred face and shoulders are what Cas would have seen in Hell.

The scars are another reminder that Cas is gone, and Dean punches the bathroom mirror, adding more cuts to his fists and knuckles. Sam cleans his wounds wordlessly and the next day buys him a new mirror, setting it up without a word and any complaint. Dean sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing the front cover of  _A Tale of Two Cities_ in his hand, not looking as Sam tells him he's going for a food run.

Dean doesn't eat that night and ignores the fact that he hasn't eaten in days.

* * *

 

 

 

> _Now it wonders lost and wounded_  
>  _This heart that I misplaced_

 

Sam forces Dean to eat two meals the next day, and Dean sees him press his fingernails into his palm like he used to do when he was getting possessed by Lucifer. Sam winches, opens his eyes and looks disappointed when he sees that there's still a ghost of his brother sat in front of him, and not the older brother he knows. But he doesn't push it, because Cas meant a lot to Dean, and Sam knows how grieving feels. He remembers how broken he was after Jess and Amelia and Eileen and how Dean helped him through it.

Sam doesn't tell him that he's been rifling through books for the past three months and that he's finally just found a small hint of a way. It's dangerous but Sam's not stupid. Some hunters from Manhatten owe him a couple favors and he's already called them in. If all goes to plan he'll be getting an answer by Thursday, and then he'll just have to convince Dean.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're enjoying it so far! And don't forget, comments are always welcome!  
> Don't forget to bookmark this for later so you can keep up with the next chapter/s.  
> So I was in the process of writing this and I realized just how long it had gotten, so I'll be splitting this into two (or more) chapters.  
> It is still undecided on if I'll do every lyric of the song, as it all depends on if I can find something to write about for the lines.  
> Anyway, chapter 2 will be coming soon. It's currently in the editing process but will be available before Sunday (bearing in mind I'm in England right now so I'm using the British Time Zone)


End file.
